


The Choices We Make

by makuroshi



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Flustered Rin, Future Fic, I Tried, M/M, Matsuoka Rin birthday bash, Roommates, Some headcanon, Tachibana Makoto is a sweetheart, University, crybaby Rin, makorin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuroshi/pseuds/makuroshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That Monday, Rin hands in the career questionnaire, fills in the application form and calls Makoto to tell him to ‘take responsibility, damn it’, to which Makoto chuckles heartily and answers ‘Don’t worry, Rin. Trust me.’</p>
<p>(in which Makoto and Rin attends the same university, and Rin gradually realize that he's not as straight as he thinks he is)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Choices We Make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spinacheese93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinacheese93/gifts).



The future is unpredictable. It’s fickle, it’s a variable, and Rin fears it.

 

Rin is afraid of the uncertainty that lies within the future, of the endless possibilities that might come with a decision he makes in the present. He has his fair share of choices that ended up in horribly wrong ways, his traumatic life-changing experience in Australia being one of the worst outcomes that originated from a naïve, reckless dream he had once pursued.

 

He doesn’t want to make another mistake. The impending regret is not worth it.

 

The paper in his hand has crumpled a bit; the blank spaces still unfilled and untouched save for the name and class. It’s due in a few days, and even after countless hours of endless sighing and staring, Rin is still stuck on the first question. He briefly wonders what good it makes for teachers to ask the students regarding their career paths. There are still a few months left before graduation, so why bother?

 

“This is so troublesome,” Rin growls, gritting his teeth in annoyance. “I’ll think of something when the time comes… Why are they being so nosey?!”  Rin carelessly chucks the paper aside, already sensing an oncoming headache. The clock strikes one, and Rin groans, exasperated.

 

“Rin-senpai?” A timid voice resounds from the top of the bunk, snapping Rin out of his reverie. “What are you doing, still awake?”

 

“Shut up,” Rin replies, not wanting any more stress than what is already in his plate. “Go to sleep.”

 

“But you’re sighing so loudly, and you look troubled, so I thought—“

 

“It’s nothing, Ai. Go back to sleep.”

 

It sounds more of an order than a request now that it’s been repeated twice, and Nitori seems to catch on the idea that Rin is getting annoyed by his concern, so he reluctantly stays silent for the rest of the night. Still, he doesn’t miss the rustlings coming from the toss and turns Rin makes in the dark, as well as the quiet sobs he hears but has never mentioned.

\----------

When Rin checks his phone on that Saturday morning, he doesn’t expect the 8 missed calls, nor the 11 messages. And he most definitely doesn’t expect the person clogging his inbox to be _Makoto_ , of all people.

 

_Good morning, Rin! Are you busy?_

_Rin! I’ve been trying to reach you for a while now. Did something happen?_

Rin glances at the window, watches the golden sunrays seeping in, barely illuminating the room. He thinks of typing _‘Sleep happened, that’s what’_ but decides against it, and opts to stare at the glaring screen, contemplating on whether to return the calls. Makoto rarely ever contact him other than the occasional _‘Rin, how are you doing?’_ and _‘Rin, you there?’_ , which are all his lame and painfully obvious attempts at starting a conversation, but he was never this desperate. Even after they’ve finally made up again last year, their communication stays minimal, and Rin hopes that Makoto is rational enough to realize that Rin must be caught up in school and practice.

 

Though in actuality, Rin manages time just fine. It’s his fear of the future that prevents him from having casual talks with Makoto, or Haru, or even Rei and Nagisa for that matter, because ‘ _what’s your plan after graduation?’_ and _‘are you still going to Olympics, Rin?’_ are bound to pop up in the conversation somehow.  Because he’s afraid that one day, he’ll be left chasing someone else’s dream while others chase their own.

 

It’s stupid and absurd, Rin knows, but he still has terrifying nightmares from time to time. Sometimes he sees his father, cold and unmoving, eyes wide open but lips a freezing blue, like he has a wish unfulfilled, a dream unaccomplished. Sometimes he sees Haru, swimming forward, always ahead and never looking back at him, never acknowledging his existence. Regardless, the ending is always the same.

 

_Goodbye, Rin._

The phone screen suddenly flashes a blinding white, and the vibrations shake Rin out of his moment of pessimism. Rin doesn’t even have to look to know that it’s Makoto, because the blaring drums and guitar tunes from Makoto’s favourite band are good enough indications.

 

(If asked about it, Rin will say that it’s for convenience. He’ll never admit that the ringtone is exclusively set because it reminds him of Makoto’s boyish voice when he sings, nor will he answer why he doesn’t do the same for his other friends.)

 

“Makoto?”

 

“Rin! You finally answered!”

 

The sigh of relief Makoto breathes makes Rin wince a little, because it’s so much like that of his father when Rin returned home all soaked and dripping from a swim in the sea. But he tries not to think about it.

 

“For god’s sake, Makoto, it’s so early in the morning. And it’s a _Saturday._ What’s with all the calls?”

 

Makoto laughs nervously, like he’s struggling to put the right words in a sentence, and Rin can practically _see_ him scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Rin waits for a reply.

 

“I… kinda have something important to discuss. Is it okay if we meet today?”

 

“I don’t really mind, but wha—“

 

“Great! I’ll be there soon, yeah?”

 

Rin jumps abruptly –hitting his head on the bottom of Nitori’s bunk bed in the process- and fumbles with the phone that almost slips out of his hold.

 

“Wait, Makoto, you’re coming over?” Rin exclaims loudly, and his scandalous expression goes well with his tone.

 

“Of course, I’m dropping by Samezuka, and then we’ll go out for breakfast,” Makoto pauses, presumably checking the time. “Or maybe lunch, depending on how fast I can get there.”

 

Rin wants to be angry at Makoto, really. Rin wants to yell at him, to tell him off because he has tons of homework and assignments _plus_ a career questionnaire due on Monday and he has no time for small chats. He wants to vent it all out at Makoto, because Makoto reminds him of Haru, and Haru reminds him of swimming, and swimming reminds him of his late father and the dream he once lived that now seems so far from his grasps. But that gentle tone, that _tiny_ little leap of octave Makoto’s hopeful voice makes when he’s excited about something, and the image of a softly smiling Makoto that Rin’s mind has come to memorize wipe his anger almost completely.

 

“Okay,” Rin says and hangs up. He tries to chase away the unexplained giddiness that overwhelms him, but he sure hopes that it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Makoto is coming to meet him.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Rin finds himself on the bench in front of the school gate, dressed in his best shirt and his hair neatly styled. As he waits for Makoto’s arrival restlessly, Rin realizes that he doesn’t even understand himself sometimes.

\----------

It takes Makoto a mere twenty minutes to arrive, and when Makoto calls out “Rin!” and jogs to him with that stupid goofy grin on his face, Rin ignores the strident thumping of his heart and pastes on a straight facade, like he _did not_ just waited anxiously or even looking forward to this.

 

The restaurant Makoto brings him to is fairly empty and nicely decorated, and a comfortable silence falls upon them. Rin figures it’s got something to do with the fact that it’s barely nine in the morning, and he wonders just how on earth Makoto got here so fast.

 

It turns out that Makoto really does have something very important to talk about.

 

Rin fiddles with the bacon in his plate -the sunny side up widely grinning as if mocking him- and he tries to concentrate on whatever it is that Makoto is saying now. But it’s a mission made impossible when all he can think of are the things Makoto has said a few minutes ago.

 

“Hold up, Makoto,” Rin finally intervenes, and Makoto stops talking to look at Rin, noticing the blatant confusion in those gleaming maroon eyes. “Are you seriously asking me to go to the same university as you?”

 

Makoto doesn’t answer; he simply nods, and his warm lips curve up like the gentle sweetheart he is, and suddenly Rin is so, _so_ _close_ to just saying yes to everything. Rin has to dart his eyes away, fearing that he’ll succumb to the legendary ‘Makoto smile’ if he lingers any longer.

 

“Why me?” Rin asks, honestly baffled by the sudden invitation. “Why not Haru?”

 

“I did ask Haru,” Makoto says, and Rin once again disregards the way his heart clenches when he hears it; regrets he’s asking in the first place. Of course Makoto would ask Haru _first._ They’re childhood friends, way before Rin was even in the picture, and no matter how many times Nagisa joyfully reminds him that the four of them are teammates and are _friends forever_ , the gap is still too obvious to overlook, still huge enough for Rin’s heart to fall through.

 

“I figured as much, you guys are joined at the hips anyway.”

 

By the time the words left his mouth, Rin regrets the malice that underlines them and the sour aftertaste that stays. It’s unintended, but there’s just something about Makoto putting Haru above everything -above _him_ , his mind echoes- that irks him and sets him off. Makoto doesn’t notice; or maybe he does, but pretends not to. Either way, Rin is glad.

 

“Haru’s not coming,” Makoto simply says. “He’s taking arts at a local junior college. He thinks Tokyo is too troublesome.”

 

Rin snorts loudly, and makes a mental note to drop by Haru’s house in the near future to nag about wasted talents. He almost asks ‘ _what about Nagisa?’_ before recalling that Nagisa still has a whole year stretched out in front of him; more than enough time to float in the water and bask in the sun with no care for the world, and certainly more than enough time to properly weigh the choices. Lucky bastard.

 

The silence is suddenly unbearable as Rin takes his time to picture the consequences that may arise, and with Makoto staring so intently at him like he’s holding the key to the mysteries of the universe, he can’t help feeling a tad bit flustered and uncomfortable. Making decisions is never his forte; and Rin kinda wishes that Haru’s here, right there next to him, silently stuffing himself full with ridiculously unappetizing mackerel and pineapple sandwich just so that Rin can take his mind off the pressure onto arguing with Haru instead.

 

“Rin?” Makoto calls out softly, and there’s just something, _something_ in his silky, soothing voice and the fond way Rin’s name rolls off his tongue that helps Rin find his answer.

 

“Fine,” Rin says, stabbing the egg in his plate and watching the golden yolk ooze out like it’ll somehow calm his conflicted mind. “I’ll go with you,” He pauses to look at Makoto. “But only if you promise to help me with my entrance essay.”

 

Makoto’s eyes light up like carefully polished jades, and his laughter rings in the air in a way that threatens to coax Rin’s out of him, and when his hand reaches out to lay on top of Rin’s in a friendly gesture that sends surges of pleasant warmth coursing through his body, Rin wonders just what he has signed up for.

 

That Monday, Rin hands in the career questionnaire, fills in the application form and calls Makoto to tell him to ‘ _take responsibility, damn it’_ , to which Makoto chuckles heartily and answers ‘ _Don’t worry, Rin. Trust me.’_

\----------

They move in to their shared 1 LDK apartment one week before the first semester starts, and the process is a chaotic hassle in itself.

 

Makoto carries _a lot_ of things with him, and by a lot, Rin means ‘the whole room is his and his alone’ kind of a lot, and that the only space left for Rin is that humble little corner in which a lump of dust awaits to greet its latest companion.

 

Rin is not amused, and he’s not going to hide it.

 

“I’m so sorry, Rin,” Makoto says and puts down an overwrapped box, bowing a little to further emphasize his guilt, apologetic smile replacing his usual tender one. “Mother packed these up even when I told her not to… She says we’re going to need it sometime soon.”

 

Rin glares at the box labeled _‘sweaters’_ , and at another tagged as _‘glassware – fragile’_ and dozens of others too far for him to read. His eyes travel north to meet Makoto’s quiet emerald ones. Mrs. Tachibana meant no harm; she’s sweet, caring and thoughtful (just like Makoto, Rin’s mind adds) but this outrageous amount of boxes makes it look as if she’s sending Makoto off for good, like she’s expecting Makoto to stay with Rin forever. Maybe the two of them will visit their hometown on holidays, and wear comfy ugly sweaters on Christmas and drink from matching mugs and wear matching rings, and when it comes down to it, probably one of them is going to change their surname…

 

On a second thought, Tachibana Rin doesn’t sound too bad.

 

“Rin?” Makoto calls, puzzled by Rin’s sudden paralyzed state and reddening cheeks. “Are you not feeling well?”

 

Rin’s brain shuts down halfway while trying to digest his own thoughts, but when he finally does, it embarrassed him so much that he wants to curl up and die, and Makoto’s warm large hand against his forehead isn’t helping either. He forces out a cough and turns away from Makoto’s concerned view, muttering a small _‘keep unpacking’_ before making a beeline to the shoe rack at the front door. He crouches and tries to get busy arranging their shoes and slippers, but Rin knows better: the one thing that truly needs arranging right now is his heart.

 

For once, Rin is happy that Makoto can’t read his thoughts like he can Haru.

\----------

Miraculously, they manage to settle in and make the room hospitable within the first week, mostly thanks to Makoto’s superb handyman skills. Rin knows Makoto loves manual labor and jobs that require physical strength, and Makoto’s always telling him to _‘leave it to me!_ ’, but he still tries to help whenever he can. They’re merely students, so Rin keeps on saying _‘what’s the use of all these? We’ll be on campus most of the time, anyways’_ , but Makoto insists. Rin swears Makoto knows that his smile is his ultimate weapon.

 

Semester starts, and time flies. Rin is quite delighted to find that the campus is within a walking distance from the apartment they’re renting. They leave the house at seven, sometimes later when they have less classes to attend, and the routine continues. Rin and Makoto goes to different faculties, so on campus, they only meet during Advanced English -which he still doesn’t understand why Makoto’s taking because it’s an extra subject that Makoto is really, _really_ bad at- but Rin’s not complaining.

 

Rin is hastily making his way through the walkway, rushing to get home when his vision catches a pamphlet on the far corner of the stretched bulletin board, and his eyes widen. It’s a notice promoting a club -simple yet eye-catching like every other paper scattered across the campus and flooding all the pillars and boards- except that this is different, at least to Rin.

 

It’s a try-out for the university’s swimming team.

 

It’s something Rin has always been waiting for.

\----------

“Makoto,” Rin says that evening, his strained back against the couch and his eyes on the television, unfocused. The lecture notes in his hand flutter swiftly when the fan slowly turns to face him, and Rin closes his eyes to feel the breeze softly caressing his skin.

 

“Hm?” Makoto’s wandering reply comes, and it’s clear that Makoto’s completely engrossed on the gardening show, hands pausing mid-air still holding onto the t-shirt he’s folding moments ago.

 

“Swimming,” Rin mutters softly, like the word is a secret so fragile and delicate, and he dares not to turn around to gauge Makoto’s expression. “Do you… want to?”

 

It’s a question he’s been dying to ask ever since they enrolled in the university months ago, but never has the courage to, and when Rin hears it resound in reality –loud and clear and not just a broken record looping endlessly in his mind- his breath hitches and his air disappears.

 

Rin feels Makoto shift from his seat on the couch too small to fit them both before a pair of large hands grab his shoulders from behind and pull him into Makoto’s lap. Rin lets out a surprised yelp –the sound so foreign even in his own ears- and he frowns when Makoto beams down at him with brilliance rivaling that of the sun.

 

“It’s tomorrow, right? The try-out, I mean,” Makoto mumbles into his hair. It’s ticklish in the area where Makoto’s lips meet his scalp, so Rin squirms and struggles to break free from Makoto’s iron grasps. Eventually, Rin gives up and chooses to be still, his body a dead weight against Makoto’s thighs and his mind a jumbled mess.

 

“You saw?”

 

“Yeah, on my way back from the cafeteria,” Makoto answers, hands still strongly holding Rin’s body in a half-embrace, gardening show on the television long forgotten. “Are you sure about this, Rin?”

 

“Why won’t I be sure?” Rin replies nonchalantly, and the faintest hint of a smile starts to bloom from his scowl. His awkwardly placed hand searches for something to hold onto, and finds Makoto’s arm. “I want to swim with you, Makoto.”

 

Rin doesn’t notice that he’s full-out grinning by the end of his sentence, doesn’t know what is it that he’s so fucking happy about. But then Makoto starts to smile back –gentle, vibrant and breathtaking- and their eyes lock for the briefest moment, just enough for the disgustingly sappy side of Rin to kick start and conjure the idea that it’s Makoto, _it’s Tachibana Makoto_ that makes him happy.

 

“I want to swim with you too, Rin.”

 

They stay in silence after that, neither moving away from the spot they were in, and Rin wonders if that is the closest thing to a confession he will ever get.

\----------

Even without training for the past few months, Makoto and Rin still made it into the team, and sure, Rin’s happy and excited and all that, but there’s something off that bothers him.

 

He watches intently as Makoto makes his laps, observes how Makoto’s long arms extends gracefully with each dynamic strokes, how his legs rise up to kick and propel his body forward in swift motions. Makoto easily overtakes one, two, then three of the other swimmers, leaving them behind effortlessly. Each movement spells elegance and precision, and Rin is rendered mesmerized and breathless; unable to look away.

 

Rin knows that Makoto has always been an excellent and talented backstroker. But has Makoto always been this beautiful?

\----------

“Makoto,” Rin says when they’re both laying in their own futons, his back turned towards his roommate. Makoto makes a small noise at the back of his throat, urging him to continue, and Rin feels his heart slamming against his ribcage like it’s dying to come out.

 

“My pillow,” Rin whispers into the night. “I can’t find it. And I can’t sleep without my pillow.”

 

A cheerful laughter escapes Makoto, one that’s borderline amused and teasing. For a moment, Rin thinks that his plan is ruined and that Makoto knows _,_ he _freaking knows_ that Rin purposely hides his pillow in the cupboard just so that he can make an excuse to intrude on Makoto. But within seconds, Makoto is rolling into his futon and slipping his arm underneath Rin’s head, his other arm flinged over Rin’s waist.

 

“I’ll be your pillow for tonight,” Makoto says, and though the night is too dark for Rin to make out Makoto’s expressions, he can _hear_ the smile laced in those words.

 

“Don’t blame me if you have a dead arm tomorrow,” Rin warns, but he snuggles close to Makoto anyway.

 

As Rin tries to calm his maddening heartbeat and find his lost air, it dawns upon him that he’s probably, _just a tiny bit_ in love.

\----------

When Makoto finally kisses him a week later, Rin has half expected it to happen, but that doesn’t mean he’s prepared for it.

 

He’s washing the dishes and Makoto’s making coffee when he gets the idea of asking Makoto to read his mind. Makoto doesn’t reply immediately, he simply stares at Rin with an expression Rin can’t fathom, and by the time Rin wants to say that _‘I’m just joking’_ , his words are lost in Makoto’s mouth.

 

The kiss is nothing like Makoto; it’s rough, deep and messy, and Rin has to clutch onto Makoto’s t-shirt and grab onto his olive hair for dear life as it steals Rin’s sanity away. But he’s okay with it, he’s okay with _anything_ when it comes to Makoto, because he trusts him, and really, how can a person say no to that smile?

 

Rin is reduced to a weeping mess when they break apart, and Makoto has to wipe the tears away with his thumb. _‘Crybaby Rinrin’,_ he hears Makoto say, and Rin doesn’t deny it this time.

 

“Did you really just read my mind?”

 

“Maaaaybe,” Makoto answers teasingly.

 

“What am I thinking now?” Rin asks, and he stares into Makoto’s eyes; challenging.

 

Makoto makes a constipated face that Rin assumes is his thinking face, but moments later, he breaks out laughing and ruffles Rin’s hair affectionately.

 

“I can’t, actually,” Makoto confesses, smiling sheepishly. “Not yet, at least. But when I can, I’m willing to do it anytime you want me to.”

 

Rin doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly crying again at such sickeningly sweet words –maybe because _‘anytime’_ implies that Makoto’s willing to be with him forever- but then Makoto is gently wiping each and every drop that falls, and Rin finds himself melting; _falling apart_.

 

The future is still unpredictable, and neither knows what lies ahead of them, but at least Rin is not so afraid of it anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing MakoRin. I did some research on Japanese students' uni lives, but there might be some inaccuracies? Sorry about that. Hope you liked it! Comments are appreciated. :)


End file.
